


Comfort

by tomatopudding



Series: With a Thousand Sweet Kisses (I'll Cover You) [39]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is happy to comply, Crowley Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Scene: The Bookshop Fire (Good Omens), about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22423906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomatopudding/pseuds/tomatopudding
Summary: Prompt: Kissing tears from the other’s face.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: With a Thousand Sweet Kisses (I'll Cover You) [39]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1420288
Kudos: 69





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Find the the kisses prompt list here.
> 
> Look, I didn't want to write the angst, but sometimes you simply can't help it.

_ Heat. Oppressive heat. Surrounding and pushing and suffocating. Crowley can’t breathe. His skin feels pulled tight in the face of the flame. His whole world is collapsing around him, falling around his ears. Flame. Orange yellow red flickering, filling his vision, filling the space. Consuming. Destroying. Despite the heat and flame Crowley feels frozen. He reaches out with his senses, searching for the familiar holiness, not finding it. He can’t find him. Crowley falls to his knees. His whole world is ending and he doesn’t know how to stop it. _

Crowley comes awake with a gasp, the type of gasp that feels like it’s being pulled painfully from his lungs. The darkness is disorienting after the brightness of flame, he doesn’t know where he is, can’t remember anything that happened after, trapped in that moment. He doesn’t need to breathe but he is hyperventilating, shallow and tight, and he can’t stop it. He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, shaking and shaking. 

“Crowley?”

The creaking of collapsing wood was echoing so strongly in his ears that he didn’t hear at first, but if there was anything that could pierce the fog of his mind it’s that voice. He turns to it almost instinctively, The hands that wrap around his wrists, pull his own hands away from his face, are comforting and grounding. Aziraphale’s face resolves in the half-light gloom of night so late it could be considered early. Seeing that sight, the loveliest thing Crowley has ever seen, pulls him to the present with a jolt. He throws himself at Aziraphale, burying his face in that broad chest, feeling arms come around him as a sob rises in his throat. Crowley couldn’t stop it from coming out even if he wanted to, so he just lets it come. The sobs keep bubbling forth, tears soaking through Aziraphale’s nightshirt. The angel only holds him closer, rocking gently back and forth, murmuring gentle soothing noises into Crowley’s mussed hair. 

He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but he feels drained. The skin around his eyes is tight from salt tears that are still trailing down his cheeks and he wants to stay in this warm embrace forever but he forces himself to pull back. As he does, Aziraphale’s hands trail from the center of his back to his shoulders, caressing his neck, cradling his jaw. He doesn’t ask what the nightmare was about. He doesn’t have to. Instead he peppers tiny kisses on Crowley’s nose and forehead, kisses away the salt tears from his cheeks, tenderly kisses his lips like a benediction. The crying has exhausted him and despite himself Crowley feels his eyelids start to droop. Aziraphale maneuvers them back down onto the mattress. By the time they’re lying down, legs tangled and his head resting on Aziraphale’s chest rising and falling with his breaths, Crowley is already descending back into sleep. 

  
  



End file.
